


Close Your Eyes and Think of No One

by radioqueen (orphan_account)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anal tearing, Asexual Character Forced to Fuck, Asphyxiation, Corsetry, Crying, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Double Penetration in Two Holes, Erectile Dysfunction During Rape, F/M, Fetish Clothing, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Orgasm, Forced to Watch a Loved One's Rape, Inhumanly Massive Cocks, Multi, Rape Aftermath, Rapist Makes Victim Piss Self, Rapist Plays Dress-Up, Rapists Make Out With Each Other While Double Penetrating Victim, Rimming, Sex Toys, Trauma, Victims comfort each other, Watersports, broken ribs, forced to fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-05-20 14:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/radioqueen
Summary: Nikola decides to meet The Archivist. (Set shortly after Episode 86, Tucked In.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plutonianshores](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/gifts).



The entire flat was dark when Jon arrived at Georgie’s place after his meeting with Melanie. He tried the lightswitch, already knowing, somehow, that it was a futile gesture.

“Georgie?” he called. “Are you here? I think another fuse has blown.”

There was a muffled growl of rage from somewhere in the room. Jon fumbled for his phone to light the room, but he needn’t have bothered. There was a loud click, and Jon recoiled in horror at what the light revealed.

A plastic mannequin dressed like a ringmaster gestured proudly at Georgie, who was gagged and squirming against the silky purple rope that bound her to one of her own kitchen chairs. A burly deliveryman towered over her, looking somewhere between bored and smug. And three bland, identical-looking humanoid figures, two apparent females and one apparent male, sat stiff and unbreathing on the sofa. Once again, Jon somehow  _ knew _ they were the anatomy students Dr. Elliott had told him about.

“You don't always like what you see, do you, Archivist?” asked the mannequin cheerfully—or at least, Jon was pretty sure the voice had come from her blank face. “Naughty little Eye, always peeping where it doesn’t belong! Not so pleasant when it's turned around, is it?”

“Nikola Orsinov, I presume?” Jon tried to sound more competent than he felt.

“Yes, that's right!” Nikola raised her hands in triumph. “Lovely to meet you! We’ve been waiting ever so long.”

“And the deliverymen are—”

“Breekon,” said one.

“And Hope,” said the other. “At your service.”

“Of course,” Jon sighed. “Georgie, are you all right?”

Georgie yelled into the tape covering her mouth.

 “Oh, did you have something to say to the Archivist, dear?” Nikola awkwardly patted Georgie’s head. “Well, go on.”

The courier yanked the duct tape off Georgie’s mouth, leaving her skin pink.

“Run!” Georgie choked out. “Get help! Or burn the place down, whatever! Just run, Jon! Run and—”

But Jon couldn’t have run, even if he’d felt comfortable leaving Georgie at The Stranger's mercy. His legs were too wobbly, and besides that, the other courier had already ducked through the door behind Jon. The deliveryman closed the door, and the way he turned the deadbolt made Jon feel certain he and Georgie wouldn’t live to see it turn the other way again.

“There you are! I thought maybe you’d gotten lost. Come in, come in!” cooed Nikola, as if she owned this flat and were hosting a housewarming. “Let the party begin!”

“Party? What sort of party?” Jon asked, dreading the answer.

“An educational party! Oh, we’re going to learn so very many neat things!”

Nikola leaned one plastic arm on Georgie, whom Jon now saw had been dressed up in lingerie: a black leather corset Jon recognized, and a pair of stockings, suspenders, and studded black Mary Janes he most certainly did not. Her legs were tied apart, and she wasn’t wearing any panties, but she did have a pulsating pink vibrator shoved inside her. The realization these monsters had already hurt Georgie nearly made Jon retch.

“Are you… are you going to kill us?” he asked faintly.

“Oh, no!” Nikola said, then, “Well...  _ yes,  _ but not today! Not unless you're very naughty, of course. There are so many other, more exciting things to do before then!”

“Like what?”

“Like…  _ sex!”  _ Nikola said the word with relish. “Oh, that is a fun word to say! Your friend has so many interesting costumes and toys! We've been playing with them and having a lovely time. Haven't we—oh, I'm afraid I don't know your name. But haven't we had such a lovely time, dear?”

“Yeah, just lovely,” Georgie spat out. “Nice friends you've got, Jon.”

“We're not really  _ friends,”  _ Nikola said before Jon could respond. “More like…  _ Strangers.  _ Isn't that right, Archivist?”

“Let Georgie go,” Jon demanded. “She's done nothing to you. Let her go and I'll do whatever sick, perverted things you want.”

Breekon & Hope laughed coarsely at that, and Nikola giggled.

Jon grit his teeth and refused to give up. “You can do what you like to me, but I'm not letting you molest Georgie any more than you already have. Let her go!”

“But Archivist…” Nikola’s plastic hand clumsily groped Georgie. “How are you going to make us?”

The courier behind Jon grabbed his arms, and the other helped strip him naked and toss his clothes in a pile. By the time they'd finished, Nikola was holding up different outfits to Jon’s naked front. She discarded several flashy club-type outfits before awkwardly pulling a fishnet dress over him and topping it with a pink feather boa tied around his neck like a leash.

“Such a shame the shoes won’t fit,” Nikola pouted. “No matter! Perhaps the knickers will?”

With help from one of the anatomy students, she slid a pair of Georgie’s plain pink knickers up Jon’s kicking legs. The panties were tight around his hips and had a cool wet spot in the crotch, and Jon realized with a shameful twitch of arousal that Georgie must have been wearing these until Nikola had stripped them off her. Nikola giggled and grazed her plastic fingers over Jon’s half-erection in the panties. The hard seam of her fingertips brought him to full attention.

“I think he likes wearing girls’ knickers!” she cooed in delight. “Or perhaps he just likes all of us Watching him wear them?”

Jon wasn’t ashamed to be wearing Georgie's unmentionables, but he was well aware that many people  _ would  _ find his predicament shameful. And more importantly, he was terribly ashamed to be so hard from Nikola’s touch. He couldn’t even meet Georgie’s gaze; he was afraid she’d think he was enjoying her pain and humiliation, when nothing could be further from the truth.

“Thought you lot came here to stick things inside me,” Georgie snapped, completely unfazed by the sight of Jon wearing her dress and underwear. “Bored with me already?”

“Oh, no, silly!” Nikola assured her. “We’re just getting started!” 

“Well, come on then.” Georgie tossed her head defiantly. “Why not fuck me some more? I've got more than the one hole, you know."

"Georgie, please don't." Jon tried to catch her eye. "Nikola! It's me you want, not her!"

"I can play with both! And perhaps I just want to play with her more." Nikola left Jon on the floor and caressed Georgie’s cheek and neck again. “I know I’ve said this so many times already, but you have such smooth, soft skin! You must have an excellent skincare routine! Much better than the Archivist’s, at any rate. For shame, Archivist!”

“My skincare hasn’t exactly been a priority,” he mumbled, surprised that he _was_ ashamed.

“Well, no matter! Breekon—Hope? Whichever one you are, untie her, please. I think it's time to begin.”

The courier cut Georgie’s wrists and ankles free. She rubbed the red marks on her skin and glared at Nikola.

“Now!” Nikola said. “Would you two please show us what an orgasm looks like?”

“An org—” Jon traded a puzzled look with Georgie. “You—you couldn’t just watch on the internet?”

“Oh, we  _ could!  _ But we want to see one in person. We’d all like to see at least one orgasm, in person, from both of you, and we’d especially like to watch you having real live human sex. I know you’re the Archivist, of course, but you’re still much more human than any of us.”

The anatomy students nodded blankly in agreement. Georgie met Jon’s eyes and looked—he couldn’t tell what she looked. Annoyed? Angry? Resigned?

“Go on, then,” Nikola urged them. “Show us what orgasms look like for humans! You wouldn’t want us to have to force them out of you, would you?”

“No, wouldn’t want that.” Georgie slid out of her chair and straddled Jon’s lap. She put her arms around his neck and nibbled his earlobe.

“Georgie—”

“Sorry, Jon, but I’m not keen on a huge plastic mannequin hand up my arse,” Georgie said. “They were about to do that when you finally got back, and I was not happy about it. Let’s just get this over with, all right?”

“I understand completely,” Jon said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

Georgie pulled out all the stops: riding Jon’s lap, sucking his neck so fiercely she left spotted bruises, slapping him on both cheeks, riding his face, even rubbing his cock between her breasts. Jon responded with a pathetic, dwindling half-erection, much to his chagrin.

Georgie finally circled the base of his cock with her fingers, creating a sort of cock ring. She held him tightly while sucking him, and at last she got him erect. Jon shivered and glanced up at the audience leaning in to watch as she scrambled back onto his lap.

“Oy! Jon! Eyes on me.” Georgie pumped his cock at a firm, brisk pace. “Or better yet, close your eyes and suck my nipples.” She pulled the cups of her corset under her breasts, making them stand a little more pertly in front of his face. “You still like that, don’t you? We’ve done this before and you liked it. Come on, let’s get on with it. No peeking!”

Jon nodded and shut his eyes, trying to focus completely on worshipping Georgie’s breasts and suckling her hard nipples. Her stern hand felt wonderful on his cock, and he relaxed for a moment, relieved that he’d be able to protect her in this way. But as she tried to guide him inside her, one of the couriers loudly unzipped his trousers. Jon’s head snapped toward the noise, eyes popping open, and Georgie swore as his cock deflated.

“Are you having trouble with the Archivist?” Nikola asked innocently. “We’re happy to help if you need it.”

“We’re fine, thanks.” Georgie circled behind Jon and pushed him forward onto his hands and knees. She pulled her stretched-out panties down his thighs and massaged his bottom.

“Georgie, wait—” Jon protested, but he was too late.

Georgie nestled her chin between his cheeks and lapped at his arsehole as her fist grasped his cock. Jon inhaled sharply as she pumped it up and down, but it wasn’t enough. Georgie alternated tonguing his hole with fingering it, roughly shoving one finger in, then two, then three, until he finally regained something close to an erection.

“There we go.” Georgie patted his bottom. “Good boy. Is this enough for you weirdos?”

“It’s a nice show,” Nikola said. “But we really want to see his dangly bit go into your hole!”

Georgie gripped the base of Jon’s cock painfully, alternating hands twice as she awkwardly crawled under him. Finally, she was spread under him, one hand squeezing his cock and the other stroking him and twisting his nipples.

“Ahh! Ahhhhh! That _ hurts!”  _ Jon hissed, but they both knew he loved it. He opened his eyes to look down at Georgie beneath him, but a noise made him glance to the side.

“None of that,” Georgie said sharply. “Close your eyes and think of—I dunno, is there anyone who does it for you these days? Celebrities?”

Jon shook his head.

“All right,” Georgie said. “Then I guess... close your eyes and think of no one? And suck on my nipples again while you’re at it. I like how your mouth feels on them.”

Jon was happy to obey, suckling on her nipples and focusing purely on the physical sensation. Georgie pulled his hips down until his cock was grazing her hair and wetness, then a little lower, and then she was wiggling underneath him and guiding him into her warmth.

Jon sighed in pleasure and took it from there. He fucked her at a comfortable clip, rubbing his face against her breasts and exploring her nipples and areolae more leisurely now with his tongue. When his neck cramped from the position, he buried his face in her soft neck and stroked his fingers lightly over the hair covering her cunt. He set his pace based on Georgie's breathing, but she was careful not to moan or say anything—something Jon appreciated tremendously. They worked in silence just like old times, united more in their shared solitude than in their bodies' connection. 

And then, suddenly, Jon noticed the monsters around them. In a way, it was the lack of breathing that made them so conspicuous. He could feel their heat, just a few degrees too cool, and their mass, just a little less dense than it should be, but their lack of breathing was what really unsettled him. And then one of them sighed deeply near his hip, the cool breeze deflating Jon’s cock as he flinched.

“Don’t think about them,” Georgie pleaded.

But it was too late. He softened and slipped out of her, and all his frantic reinsertion attempts accomplished was hurting Georgie.

“Ouch!” She pushed his hip up so he’d stop rutting futilely against her entrance. “Quit! Get yourself hard again first.”

“I’m trying.” Panic rose in Jon’s throat as he masturbated himself raw. “I’m sorry, I’m trying, I just—”

“Don’t worry, Archivist!” Nikola said brightly. “We can help!”

“Goddammit!” Georgie looked like she was about to cry from frustration. "Jon, please, just try."

At Nikola's gesture, one of the couriers dragged Georgie by the underarms from underneath Jon.

“No, no, please, just give me a minute,” Jon pleaded. “I’ll finish, I swear I will, just don’t—”

“We haven’t got all day, Archivist,” Nikola said. “But not to worry! We’ll still make sure you get a nice orgasm while your friend is taken care of!”

Breekon (or was it Hope?) dragged Jon by the hair until he was standing on his knees, forced to watch the other courier slam Georgie onto the coffee table.

“No!” Jon shouted. “Don’t! Don’t you  _ dare  _ fucking touch her!”

“Now, now,” Nikola soothed Jon. “You’ll get another turn when the couriers have finished. Just sit back and Watch, like you’re supposed to.”

Jon cried out in protest as the other deliveryman forced four thick fingers into Georgie without lubrication. But there was nothing Jon could do to fight them, even as Nikola replaced the monster holding him so it could join its partner in ravishing Georgie. All he could do was watch.


	2. Chapter 2

“No, please, don’t,” Jon begged through his tears. “Don’t hurt her! Take me instead!”

“Oy! Put me down, you Cockney pricks!” Georgie kicked in vain as the burly couriers laid her on her own coffee table, sandwiched between them. “I need to use the toilet first! Let me go and then I’ll do whatever you want. Quit! You’re going to make me piss myself!”

“Music to my ears,” the one underneath sighed in pleasure. “I love when they fight us.”

“I know you do, Love.” The one on top leaned in and kissed him.

The one underneath pulled Georgie’s knees up so high they pressed into her breasts.

“Can’t breathe!” Georgie protested. “I’m in a corset, dickhead!”

The one underneath ignored her. The one on top lovingly pulled out his partner’s cock, which was flesh-colored but far too large to be a human penis. Jon once again knew, somehow, that it had been styled to resemble a stallion’s cock, but thicker and lumpier. The courier on top snaked his tongue up the other’s unsettling appendage, swirling the tip around the fungus-like bumps, before sucking the phallus to its full height.

“That's the reason we need to watch humans. The couriers are, well, how should I put it?” Nikola mused. “Well, obviously, they’re not exactly human, are they? And when they climax, they spray out lots and lots of, well, whatever the word is for that gloopy stuff! But I don’t think they do it quite like a human does. So _this_ isn’t ideal, obviously. But we can always watch you come for us, can’t we, Archivist?”

“Please don’t hurt her,” Jon begged again. “She hasn’t done anything except help me! Have them rape me instead! Leave her alone, Nikola, please!”

“Oh, it’s a bit late for that,” Nikola said.

The courier had deemed his partner’s cock hard and wet enough and was now folding it into a “J” shape. The phallus held the position like a bendable toy, the head now pointing at Georgie’s arsehole. The one on his knees kissed his partner’s thighs as he fed that inhuman cock into Georgie's bottom, and the one underneath held her while she squirmed.

“No! Fuck! It’s too fucking big!” Georgie shrieked. “Christ, it’s tearing me apart! Fucking hell, make it stop!”

“Stop!” Jon tried to break free, but Nikola was surprisingly strong. “Please, Nikola, hurt me instead!”

“Now what would be the fun in that, when you enjoy being hurt so very much?” Nikola teased Jon. “It’s much more interesting this way.”

The other courier hefted his equally massive and horse-like erection out, and Jon sobbed in hysterical desperation as he watched helplessly. Georgie’s screams intensified as the second cock was forced inside her cunt, and they rose an octave when the two began to jackhammer her vulnerable body. She didn’t seem capable of speech anymore, just an awful, agonized screaming that shot straight down Jon’s spine.

“You can gag her, if the noise bothers you,” Nikola suggested helpfully to the fidgeting anatomy students. 

One of the students retrieved Jon’s grey boxer briefs from the pile of discarded clothing and stuffed them into Georgie’s mouth. The couriers chuckled in unison, and the one on top clamped a hand over her packed mouth. She was almost completely inaudible.

“No, no, no! That won’t do at all. We _want_ to hear her noises!” Nikola chided them. “We just want the noises a bit quieter. Will the corset tighten any?”

The couriers sat Georgie up, the huge cocks still lodged deep inside her. The one in front grabbed her hands as easily as a child’s, and the one whose cock was in her bleeding arse clumsily untied the laces and started yanking them as tight as they’d go. Georgie sat up straight, her nostrils flaring with pain and the sudden effort to get enough air as her waist was cinched unrecognizably tiny. 

But the courier didn’t stop there. He kept yanking and yanking on the laces, until finally there was a loud crack, and then another. Georgie’s eyes rolled upward and she slumped backward, but the top courier held her upright by a fistful of her hair. The other tied a big bow with the laces and double knotted it, and then dropped back onto the table again. The front courier dropped Georgie against his partner’s stomach, and Jon winced, afraid to see broken ribs piercing her. But no blood appeared, at least not to Jon’s eye. The couriers simply pulled the boxers out of her mouth and resumed fucking her.

By that point, the anatomy students had swarmed over Jon to help Nikola keep him down. Their hands were penetrating his mouth, arsehole, nostrils, ears—anywhere they could find a place to wiggle in. He yelped and tried to fight them off, but they were determined to play with his body.

“No, stop—” Jon coughed as two fingers penetrated his throat. “Stop!”

“Just enjoy it, Archivist!” Nikola urged him. “You wouldn’t want your friend to think you were unhappy with her performance, would you? You’re meant to enjoy this!”

Georgie groaned as she regained consciousness. Jon winced and shut one eye as a finger poked it, wanting to keep an eye on Georgie as long as he could. Breekon and Hope were passionately making out while fucking Georgie’s limp body. Blood trickled onto the bottom courier’s trousers. Georgie was pale and gasping, but she looked angry and upset, not afraid.

“Toilet,” Georgie croaked. “I can’t… hold it…”

The couriers ignored her. Nikola plunged her plastic hand down the front of Jon’s borrowed panties and laughed when she found him hard again from the students’ clumsy ministrations.

“You must really like watching your lover satisfied by monsters,” Nikola teased him.

“No!” Jon lied. “I would never—”

“In that case, it must be that she’s being hurt by them?” Nikola patted Jon’s head. “I can make them hurt her more, if you’d like?”

“No!” Jon’s heart filled with panic. “No, you were right before. I—I like watching her sexually satisfied by someone else. But it’s a turn-off to remember she’s unwilling. In pain. I’d like it more if they, er, if they just went down on her and fingered her instead. I only like it when it seems like she's enjoying it.”

“But your little prick says otherwise,” Nikola pointed out. “It’s throbbing so hard it’s practically purple, and your friend is bleeding and crying.”

It was sort of true: Georgie was definitely bleeding, and her eyes were now watering from the pain, painting streaks of eye makeup down her cheeks. She was subdued enough by the corset now that she couldn’t move or argue much, but there was still a fire in her body language.

“I’m sorry, Georgie,” Jon said. “I’m so, so incredibly sorry.”

Georgie didn’t answer him, just grimaced as her nipple was pinched hard and twisted. “I’m going to piss myself,” she warned the couriers so weakly Jon barely heard it. “I really can’t hold it anymore.”

Nikola rummaged through Georgie’s open toy chest for a moment and returned with a large purple rod perched in one plastic hand. The effect was almost dainty due to the raised pinky on that hand. 

“Look what I found!” she enthused at Jon.

“Yes, wonderful,” Jon said in relief. “It would be much more exciting if they used that on Georgie instead of hurting—”

He broke off as Nikola knelt in front of Jon and dragged the vibrator all over his shaft through the panties, until he was trembling and dripping pre-come uncontrollably. One of the students found another vibrator, this one slim and black, and he and his companions worked together to turn it on and force it up Jon’s arse.

“Oh, look at him squirm!” Nikola said in delight. “Does that tickle, Archivist?”

“Ahh, too much!” Jon said through gritted teeth as he was overstimulated from the inside out. “Way too much! Turn it off!”

“Stop!” Georgie screeched weakly. “Stop it, stop, I need to piss!”

The couriers responded by violating her with even more vigor. Georgie lost control with a whimper, which turned to quiet, shuddering sobs when she couldn’t staunch the flow. The deliverymen didn’t seem bothered by her pissing on them. If anything, their moaning indicated that they rather liked it. And Jon, to his shame, experienced the most earth-shattering orgasm of his life into his stolen panties while their rightful owner wept brokenly between her rapists. 

“Oh, he did it!” one of the students said eagerly. “He ejaculated!”

Nikola hooked her extended pinky into the waistband and pulled them away so she could check. “You’re right! What a good boy you are, Archivist! Let’s take that vibrating thing out of him, shall we?” 

Jon sighed in relief as the vibrator was removed from his oversensitive bottom. At the same time, one of the couriers collapsed on top of Georgie, spent. His lumpy balls twitched obscenely as they emptied into her cunt, and the “gloopy substance” slowly trickled out. Jon squirmed as Nikola held the full length of the vibrator to the underside of his softening cock.

“Since you were such a good boy, would you like to lick your friend clean?” Nikola asked. “Maybe give her a nice orgasm of her own?”

Jon nodded. Nikola tugged the feather boa like a leash and walked him like a dog to the coffee table. The courier on top rolled to the side and sat on the carpet, kissing his partner, who was still holding Georgie’s knees to her chest and moving her up and down on his cock. Her cunt was gaping open and leaking blood and opaque white courier semen, and the clear piss that escaped her body every few moments must have stung her injuries terribly.

 “Go on, Archivist.” Nikola pushed Jon’s head toward Georgie. “Show us how you make your friend orgasm.”

Jon swallowed hard and lowered his mouth to Georgie. He gently cleaned her of everything: the blood, the lavender spunk, the natural lubrication, even the streams of piss that kept spurting out against her will. Georgie lay tense under Jon's tongue while he worked, and he caressed her thighs to let her know… well, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted her to know. That he was there? That he was sorry? That he loved her? All of the above, really. The only indication she felt him was the way she started violently every time he touched her.

Her arse was still bleeding too. Jon reluctantly licked up the blood, trying to give the bizarrely bent cock a wide berth. But it immediately smeared more blood where he’d just cleaned. Jon cleaned Georgie again, and his tongue brushed the cock, making Jon shudder. It felt all wrong, like a heavy pipe coated in some sort of soft, velvety silicone. 

“Don’t forget what you’re supposed to be doing,” Nikola said.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said coolly.

Jon knew he could make Georgie orgasm. He also knew she’d never forgive him for it if he did. But frankly, he didn’t see what choice he had.

“I’m sorry, Georgie,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time. “Just close your eyes and I’ll try to hurry.”

He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer him this time, either. She just mewled softly when his tongue caressed the sides of her clit, never touching it directly. Jon licked up a few newly formed blood droplets from her battered entrance before teasing around her clit.

“Now, I was told that women like when you play with the clitoris.” Nikola leaned in to look, brushing Georgie’s clit with her pinky and sending another shudder through Georgie. “How long do you wait to play with it?”

“Forever, essentially,” Jon said blandly. “Her clitoris is too sensitive to be touched directly.”

“I thought sensitive was good,” Nikola remarked. “Why don’t you touch it?”

“It turns her off,” Jon said.

“That’s not what the book said. Show me what happens when you touch it. Go on!”

“Sorry, Georgie,” Jon muttered. 

He licked her clit straight on, making Georgie’s legs jerk violently. Her hips pushed forward but not in pleasure—it was an attempt to buck him off her.

“See?” Jon said. “She hates it.”

“But she likes it to the side?” Nikola asked. “Or above, and below?”

“Yes. Or like this.” 

Jon petted the thick hair covering Georgie’s mons and outer labia. Georgie inhaled sharply through her nose, squirming slightly—but not from discomfort this time. The bleeding was slowing, and now she was only wet from Jon’s tongue and her own grudging excitement. Jon tickled her inner thighs, and she gasped softly.

“Don’t you dare,” she wheezed. “I mean it, Jon.”

Jon glanced nervously up at Nikola before diving back in, circling her clit with his tongue. Georgie tried to suck in a sharp breath, coughed instead, and whined as another of her ribs cracked. Jon winced but kept going.

“Jon,” she warned again, weakly trying to kick him. “Knock it off.”

“Oh, I see!” Nikola clapped her plastic hands together. “She is marvellously sensitive! May I have a turn?”

Jon saw no other choice but to sit back on his ankles and watch Nikola stroke the outside of Georgie’s vulva with her long, plastic pinky. Georgie went rigid, refusing to give Nikola the satisfaction of the slightest hint of pleasure.

“Oh, I thought I could do it too,” Nikola said, disappointed. “Why doesn’t it work for me?”

Jon shrugged. “Maybe you’re not her type?”

One of the anatomy students snickered at that.

“Oh, I see,” Nikola said sadly. “I suppose you’d better do it for us. We really want to see her orgasm.” 

Jon settled in between Georgie’s legs and caressed her clammy knees. He tried to ignore the cock still rutting away in her abused bottom.

“Nearly done, Georgie.” Jon kissed her lower stomach. “Just one orgasm, and then it will all be over.”

Jon kissed and licked over Georgie’s thick pubes until she sighed in reluctant pleasure. He dragged his tongue across the creases between her cunt and her thighs, enjoying the scent of her sweat and arousal. He pushed three fingers into her raw cunt and rubbed the firm bundle of nerves in her front wall. His tongue flicked closer to her clit, licking up either side of the hood and and occasionally kissing and massaging her mons.

Jon glanced up at Georgie and found her head tossed back, face flushed from pleasure or asphyxiation or both. He could tell she was getting close from how wet she was every time his tongue darted to her opening, and of course from how hard her clit was throbbing and straining against its prepuce. Jon once again ignored her sensitive clit and instead gently added a fourth finger. The courier fucked her a bit faster, apparently about to finish. Jon nibbled just below her clit, working his lips against the engorged flesh that surrounded her tiniest little hole, letting his nose rub the side of her clit hood.

“Jon,” Georgie gasped, her whole body going taut. “Don’t, no—”

But it was too late. She came hard, spraying her salty piss into Jon’s mouth. He swallowed dutifully, feeling it was the least he could do for getting her into this mess.

“That was very good, Archivist!” Nikola gushed as Georgie collapsed, trembling, on top of the courier. “So impressive to see you use that mouth for things other than asking naughty questions. She looks very satisfied!”

Georgie actually looked very traumatized, Jon thought. She seemed nearly catatonic as the courier pumped load after load of purple semen into her bowels, spilling some down her crack. But that was yet another reason Jon simply wanted to get Nikola and her monsters out of Georgie’s flat as quickly as possible, so he shrugged.

“Thank you,” he said icily. “Are we done here?”

“Yes, I think so!” Nikola said chipperly. “I have other business to discuss with you, though. I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Brilliant, I can’t wait,” Jon snarled. “I trust you can show yourselves out?”

“Yes, of course. Goodbye!” 

Nikola waved, and the anatomy students followed her example as they marched out of the flat. Georgie was dumped onto the floor, and Breekon and Hope wiped themselves on her hair and face. Then they tucked their limp cocks back into their coveralls and tipped imaginary hats to Georgie before leaving.

Jon slumped next to Georgie, his muscles shaking violently from adrenaline as the intruders finally departed. It was over, thank heavens. But one look at Georgie's white, near-comatose face drove all the relief right out of Jon.  



	3. Chapter 3

Georgie had always frozen when in danger. She’d done it in the medical building with Alex. She’d done it in the alley with the mugger who’d made off with eleven pounds and her bus pass. And apparently it wasn't strictly a fear thing, because she’d done it again today, with the creepy circus monsters raping her in her own home. 

That was why she lay stone still on the floor as they filed out, even once the door shut. She didn't fully believe they were really leaving and kept waiting for them to burst back in and say, “Surprise! We’re not leaving after all! Let's start round two, shall we?”

She didn't know how long she lay there, frozen, with Jon gently shaking her arm and calling her name.

“They’re gone, Georgie," he was saying. “It’s all right now. Georgie?” 

She pulled her shoulder away, but she didn’t respond otherwise. She just lay there taking short, shallow breaths, trying to get her wits about her. She  pointed shakily at the door.

“Lock that, will you?” she asked, her voice faint.  _Because that had been so effective in keeping them out to start with._

Jon scrambled down the hallway and bolted the door. Once he was no longer watching her intently, Georgie rolled onto her hands and knees. She tried to reach back and untie the corset laces, but it hurt her ribs too much. She was panicking by the time Jon returned.

“Off,” she wheezed. “Get it off me! Now, Jon, I need it off!”

He fumbled with the knots in the laces, making them tighter in his panic. Georgie choked and pushed his hand away.

“I can’t get the strings loose!” Jon said, panicking with her. “What should I do?”

“Cut them!” Georgie’s vision was starting to darken. “Cut the laces!”

“Right!” Jon bolted for the kitchen and then ran back a moment later with a pair of shears. “Hold on, Georgie. I’ll get you out of there.”

He sliced through the laces and then yanked them out of the eyelets until the corset fell off Georgie. She sucked in a deep breath and immediately regretted it, swearing and clutching at her broken ribs.

“God, that fucking hurts.” She wiped her eyes, careful not to get any of the burning spunk into them. “I still feel like I might pass out.”

“I'll call an ambulance.” Jon went digging for his mobile.

“No! Don’t you dare.”

“But you’re hurt!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Jon! You told me you were ‘technically a fugitive,’ remember? I'll just…” Georgie ransacked her foggy brain for a plan. “I don’t know. Maybe I'll be fine with a couple of paracetamol and a bit of scran and an early bedtime.”

Jon pouted in disapproval, but Georgie felt entitled to do things her way just this once.

“Don’t give me that look.” She kicked off her high heels. “Help me to the toilet, will you?”

Jon was impressively gentle in lifting and supporting Georgie, but it was still agonizing. By the time he helped her sit on the toilet, she felt lightheaded from the pain. He hovered over her, touching her and invading her space when she just wanted a few minutes of privacy to expel the evil alien spunk burning her from the inside.

“You can go.” Georgie broke out in a cold sweat from the desperation that came from sitting on the toilet but being too shy to use it.

“What do you want me to do?” Jon asked. “Should I make you a cup of tea? Or something stronger? Or some dinner? Or I could call the paramedics and then leave—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you do, Jon, just get out so I can shit in peace!” she snapped.

“Right, sorry.”

Jon disappeared, and Georgie’s abused sphincter gave out before she could even order him to shut the door. The relief was too immediate for her to care—at least until she was finished. Then all the embarrassment came right back, turning nearly to blind panic when she realized her ribs were too painful to properly wipe herself. Hyperventilating and cursing only made the pain from her ribs worse, until she was having a full-blown meltdown sitting on the toilet, covered in spunk and wearing nothing but fishnet stockings. 

“What’s wrong?” Jon came rushing back in, now dressed in a pair of pants and a T-shirt.

“No, get out!” Georgie threw the entire loo roll at Jon in her panic. “Fuck, just go!”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Jon said stubbornly.

She knew he meant it, and that broke her the rest of the way down. She hid her face in her hands and sobbed, “I can’t... fucking... even... clean myself!”

“Oh, is that all?” Jon laughed. “Thank goodness. I was afraid it was something seri—ow!”

Georgie had chucked an empty bottle of air freshener at his hip. “Just get out!” she demanded through her tears. “It’s bad enough I can’t wipe my own arse without you laughing at me! Get out!”

“I’m sorry, Georgie.” Jon sounded sincere enough. “Truly. I shouldn’t have laughed. I was just so worried. I thought… Here, will you let me help you? It’s the least I can do. Please.”

Georgie didn’t see what choice she had. The jism still on her skin—including not just her bottom but also her face and scalp—was burning her, and she was suddenly so tired she just wanted to do whatever it took to lie down as soon as possible.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jon turned the shower on and fussed with the water temperature for a few moments. When he was satisfied, he knelt in front of her and removed her stockings. “Can you stand?”

“A bit, yeah,” Georgie replied.

Jon flushed the toilet for her and helped her to her feet. “Easy getting in,” he warned. “Hold onto me if you feel unsteady.”

“I’m all right,” Georgie said. “Please just hurry and get on with it.”

Jon took the handheld showerhead and sprayed it over Georgie’s bottom. She inhaled sharply and immediately regretted it.

“Is the water too warm?” Jon asked in concern.

“No, I’m just very, very raw,” she replied. “But I desperately need to be clean, so keep going.”

Jon did, using the showerhead and then his fingers to wash her. Georgie cried quietly as his fingers gently cleaned between her folds and around the bleeding mess that was her anus. He ensured she was fully cleaned down below before turning the showerhead to her scalp. He washed her free of all the sweat, blood, makeup, and burning monster spunk left on her body.

“I’m so sorry, Georgie,” Jon murmured as he cleaned her. “I should never have put you in danger. I’m so incredibly sorry.”

She didn’t have anything left in her to comfort him, and besides, she knew he’d feel even worse if she’d tried. She just rubbed her streaming eyes and let Jon clean her.

When she was clean enough, he turned the shower off and rubbed her down gingerly. "Better?"

Georgie shrugged. "Not really, to be honest. But better than if I still had purple glop searing into my skin. Thank you."

“What else do you need?” Jon asked. “Would you like anything to eat?”

“No. Too nauseous.”

He supported her as she limped down the hallway to her bedroom.

“A cup of tea?”

“Not right now.”

“Can I call an ambulance, then?”

“No.” Georgie grabbed the clothes she’d slept in and sat down on the end of her bed. “I just want to take something for the pain and go to bed.”

“Georgie, please—” Jon’s voice broke. “Please let me take you to a doctor. I don’t care how or where, just… please.”

Georgie frowned. “Christ, Jon, do I really look that bad?”

“You’re bleeding. And you can’t walk properly.” His chin quivered. “Please let me call an ambulance, or drive you to A&E, anything,  _ please,  _ Georgie. I need you to be all right.”

Georgie softened. “All right,” she said. “I’ll call Melanie and ask her to drive me to A&E. On two conditions, though: one, we're having Hungarian for dinner, and two, you're staying here so you don’t get killed by the Ukrainian Circus Mob, or whoever you’ve crossed.”

“Thank you.” Jon kissed her head. “I promise I’ll make all this up to you. Somehow.”

“It's not your fault, Jon. You don’t have to make it up to me.” She winced and held her side. “Now, I’m gonna need some help getting dressed. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” Jon took the shirt from her and helped her into it. “I just want to get you taken care of.”

“Well, good, because I think I’m going to need a pad, too.” Georgie grimaced at the blood she could feel leaking onto her bedspread.

“Where do you keep them?”

“Under the bathroom sink.”

Jon disappeared and came back a moment with two different pads. Georgie took the thinner one from him and stuck it into her underwear before handing them to Jon, too.

“Thanks,” she said.

“It’s literally the least I could do,” Jon said.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Georgie said. “You could have stolen all my underwear and left. Or you could have done that plus cat-napped The Admiral.”

Jon smiled. “I’m glad you’re back to making jokes.”

“Yeah, well.” Georgie shrugged and then winced. “You know me. Gotta cope somehow.”

“Mmhmm.” Jon knelt at her feet again and pulled her underwear past her ankles. "I suspect humor is probably a much better coping tool than mine."

"You mean with the weird recordings?" Georgie asked. "Yeah, I reckon humor is probably better too. Or at least a lot more normal."

"You'll have to let me know how it does with something as abnormal as what happened to us today, then," Jon said.

Georgie couldn't think of a good reply to that.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Jesus!” was Melanie’s only reaction upon entering Georgie’s front door. “What the hell happened to you? And your place?”

“Long story.” Georgie didn’t think she had it in her to recount everything just yet. She was on the sofa, petting the Admiral while he slept on her lap. “Thanks for driving me.”

“Yes, thank you, Melanie.” Jon brought Georgie her bag, which seemed to be packed with spare clothes, books, and a few snacks.

“Why do these things always seem to happen to the people around you?” Melanie demanded, scratching The Admiral’s chin. “Should I be worried? Are you actually killing and maiming people?”

“I might as well be,” Jon said miserably.

“No.” Georgie scritched The Admiral’s ears and glared up at Jon. “I told you, Jon: not your fault. You didn’t beg those freaky circus people to break in and hurt us, did you? Then it’s not your fault.”

“Circus people?” Melanie asked in alarm. "I think I felt safer when I thought Jon had wrecked this place. What happened?"

“It’s a really,  _really_ long story,” Georgie said. “And I’m in a lot of pain. Can I tell you on the way?”

“Sure,” Melanie said. “I assume _he’s_ not coming with us?”

“She won’t let me,” Jon said.

“That’s right. Now come take this sleepy cat from me so I feel less sad about leaving him.”

Jon sighed and sat next to Georgie, who promptly dumped The Admiral onto his lap. The lazy cat hardly minded; he just sprawled out happily on Jon’s lap and purred as he kneaded Jon’s stomach. Jon winced but made no move to stop the pain.

“You boys be good.” Georgie forced a bit of cheer into her voice. “Be gentle to yourself.”

Jon scowled. Georgie kissed his forehead.

“Do you mind taking my bag for me, Melanie?” Georgie asked. “It hurts to lift anything much heavier than The Admiral.”

“Of course not.” Melanie shouldered the bag, and they were off.

 

The ride to A&E seemed to take forever, and Georgie just wanted to doze off against the window of Melanie’s car. But she did her best to recount what had happened and answer Melanie’s questions.

“So. Regret taking that job at The Magnus Institute now?” Georgie asked when she’d told all there was to tell.

“Better to know than not know, right?” Melanie shrugged. 

“I suppose.”

When they reached the hospital entrance, Melanie stopped to let Georgie out.

“I’ll park and be right in,” she said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Georgie said. “I’ll be fine on my own. Thank you again for driving me.”

“Oh, I’m the one being ridiculous?” Melanie scoffed. “Have you looked in a mirror recently? I’ll park and be right in.”

Parking must have been an ordeal, because Georgie was already in a gown and bed by the time Melanie returned.

“Glad to see they’re giving you the royal treatment,” Melanie joked. “And I see you didn’t tell them the truth?”

“How can you tell that?”

“Because you’d be in a straitjacket by now if you had,” Melanie said. “Although there’s still time for me to put on clown makeup and corroborate your story, if you’d like.”

Georgie laughed and then hissed in pain, hugging herself tightly. “Melanie! Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry.” Melanie settled into the chair next to the bed. “I’ll stop.”

It was awkward answering the nurses' and doctor’s questions about her injuries and sexual history with so many other patients and their families so close, but Georgie gave them her story as best she could.

“I was home by myself when two men in police uniforms knocked on my door,” she recited. “As soon as I opened my door a crack, they pushed their way in. They hit me with their nightsticks, held me down, raped and sodomized me simultaneously, and then violently penetrated me with their nightsticks after they finished. I'm not sure if they were really policemen or not, but I don't want to call the police either way.”

“It would really be best if you went to a SARC,” was the response each time. "We can refer you over to one."

“I know, but I’m bleeding pretty badly and I think I’ve got some broken ribs,” Georgie recited wearily. “I don’t want to go to a SARC. I don’t want to talk to the police. I don't need counseling or protection or anything like that. I just want my injuries patched up so I can go home to my cat.”

"Would you like contraception?" asked the last doctor, a woman who seemed marginally more competent than the other providers so far.

"Yes, please, and antibiotics, just to be safe."

"Since you say you're bleeding and they sodomized you, is HIV or hepatitis prophylaxis something you're interested in?"

Georgie looked to Melanie for advice, but Melanie just shrugged.

"Er, probably not?" Georgie said. "I'm fairly certain none of them would, er, be carrying that."

"Right. Sit tight, then, and we'll get to you when we can."

Georgie and Melanie waited for more than an hour before a tech came to take X-ray, then it was even more waiting. Melanie chased down the nurse and demanded Georgie get some pain relief, after which Georgie gratefully dozed.

She had vague dreams about what had happened, and even vaguer memories of Melanie shaking her awake to remind her she was safe now. Despite the reassurances, Georgie still woke in a blind, kicking panic when the male doctor finally entered her curtains and lifted the sheet to examine her lower injuries.

"Fucking Cockney prick!" she shouted groggily, leaping to her feet and immediately grabbing her side. "Oh, Christ, my ribs! Fuck, oh god no—"

Melanie grabbed her by the shoulders. "What the hell are you doing, Georgie?!" 

"Having a wee on the floor, apparently." Georgie's face grew hot as she returned to her senses. "I'm sorry about your shoes. That just really bloody hurt."

"No kidding."

 

"Do you know where you are, Miss Barker?" asked the irritated-looking physician.

“Yeah, this is a hospital.” Georgie accepted Melanie’s help in getting back into the bed. “Sorry, I… I mistook you for someone else.”

“Do I need to sedate you before examining you?"

“Nah.” Georgie tried to pretend she wasn’t as flushed and sweaty as if she’d just won a foot race. “Just ready to get this over with. I'm fine now.”

The doctor examined Georgie's injured vagina so roughly she yelped, at which point Melanie intervened once again. Even more irritated, the doctor injected local anesthetic into Georgie with several painful, burning stabs that made Georgie's eyes water. By the time he properly inspected her bleeding, she was too exhausted to properly care about the child who peeked in through the curtains and the man who wandered into the wrong room while her feet were up in stirrups and her bloody orifices were on full display. But Melanie had enough rage stored up for both of them, and she chased them off with a terrifying battle cry before returning calmly to her seat.

"Remind me how exactly you did this to yourself?" the doctor asked after a long silence of probing and prodding Georgie's sorest areas.

“I beg your _pardon?"_ Melanie bristled. "Can you not read, or do you just have the world's worst bedside manner?! She was raped and beaten in her own home!"

"Apologies," the doctor said without sounding very sorry. "Yeah, you did some real damage to yourself, Miss Barker, but it should heal all right. I'll put in a few stitches and send you home with a stool softener to allow things to heal."

He left her mostly exposed on the table. A janitor came to mop up her mess, and Melanie indignantly pulled the sheet down properly.

"Thanks," Georgie said. "And I’m really sorry about your shoes."

“Don’t worry about it,” Melanie said. “They’re an old pair.”

“Still. I really appreciate you bringing me here,” Georgie said. “Especially now that you’ve got an office job in the morning, like a real grown-up.”

Melanie laughed. “Hardly. All I do is read ghost stories on tape and track down people who don’t want to talk to me and make them tell me everything they know. It’s not so different from my old job, but it pays better.”

“I still say you’re a sell-out,” Georgie teased. “But we both know you only took the job because your new boss is hot.”

That finally got Melanie blushing. “I told you, ‘hot’ isn’t the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Oh, right, I forgot. What was it you called him? Charming? Dreamy?”

“All I said was that he was _distinguished-looking,_ which everyone knows is a polite way of saying he’s old but also probably old money.”

“Oh, does everyone know that?” Georgie snorted. “Have you slept with him yet?”

“I haven't decided how I feel about him yet.”

“That's not a no.”

“He's sort of a dick. You've heard of pickup artists? I think he negged me into taking my job.”

“Still not a no.”

Melanie raised an eyebrow. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

“Since when?!”

“Since I got that boring grownup job and an ambiguous arseholeish boss.”

“I wonder if that’s what got Jon in trouble. Maybe he had a fling with his boss that went horribly wrong.”

“Like everything Jon does?”

“Be nice, Melanie.”

“Sorry. But no, I don’t think that was what happened.”

“What, then?” Georgie asked eagerly. “Have you heard anything? Jon’s been so damn tight-lipped about it. I reckoned it was a cult thing.”

Melanie dropped her voice. “They’re saying he killed an old man. With a pipe.”

“What?!” Georgie raised her head off the pillow. “How?! They think Jon, what, doused someone in petrol and dropped a lit pipe on him?”

“I thought the same thing!” Melanie looked triumphant. “No, a metal pipe.”

“Oh,” Georgie said. “Oh! Wow. They do know Jon can barely even lift a croquet mallet, right?”

“Apparently not. He’s suspect number one.”

“Jesus.”

“I know!”

“Would have been nice if he’d led with that before I offered him a place to stay.”

“Would you have let him stay if you knew?”

“Probably, I guess.”

“Would most sane people?”

“Probably not.”

“I mean, ‘I’m being framed for murder’ is crazy enough. Add in, ‘I think my boss may be framing me for murder’ and you might as well chase yourself around your home with a butcher’s knife.”

Georgie laughed and then groaned and held her ribs again. “Melanie!”

“Sorry.”

At that moment, the doctor returned. Melanie held Georgie's hand while she got her stitches, which Georgie appreciated more for the thought than because she was scared or anxious. Just because she couldn’t feel fear didn’t mean Georgie couldn’t feel pain, and it was nicer to grip a human's hand than the bed rail.

  



	5. Chapter 5

It was well after midnight before the nurse removed Georgie's IV and discharged her. Melanie was yawning so much Georgie refused her offer to come inside and help Georgie get settled.

“That’s what I’ve got Jon for,” Georgie insisted, wincing as she rose from the car. “Thanks again for the ride, and for being there for me.”

“Anything for a fellow ghost hunter.” Melanie stifled another yawn. “I’ll at least watch you get inside.”

“Fair enough. Sleep tight! But not until you get home.”

“Oh, very funny,” Melanie said, but she was grinning sleepily.

When Georgie walked through her front door, the first thing she noticed was The Admiral bolting from the bedroom to attack her legs with headbutts. The second thing she noticed was that Jon had cleaned up the place. And the third thing she noticed was that Jon had packed his meager belongings into old grocery bags and seemed to be about to sneak out. 

“Georgie?” Jon called from the bathroom. “Sorry, I’ll be out of your hair in just a moment.”

“You stupid, inconsiderate idiot!” Georgie threw her discharge papers onto the counter. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“What?!” Jon emerged from the bathroom wearing rubber gloves and holding a toilet brush. “Georgie, what—”

Georgie scowled at him. “You think you can just attract creepy circus folk to my home and then run away after they’ve raped us?”

“What? No!” Jon dropped the toilet brush to his side in surprise. “I just don't want you to get hurt again because of me.”

“You don’t get to run off while I’m hurt!” Georgie kicked at one of the bags, spilling mini-cassette tapes across the floor. “That’s a total dick move, Jon, and I won’t stand for it. Besides, we had a deal! And I did my part! You're really going to run out before doing yours?”

“I’m only trying to protect you!”

“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted,” Georgie pointed out. “And what I want is literally the only difference between what happened to us tonight and a really fun Saturday." She paused. "All right, I suppose it's not literally the _only_ thing. But running off and leaving me alone after that kind of trauma is still not cool, Jon. It’s extremely not cool.”

“You… you _want_ me to stay?” Jon looked bewildered. 

“Yes, Jon. Strangely enough, after being violated by monsters in my own home, I'd feel better with some company.”

“I assumed you’d want me gone,” Jon admitted. “I honestly assumed you’d go stay with Melanie or someone.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about assuming.” Georgie dragged herself to the kitchen and turned the kettle on. “Christ, I’m tired.”

“Go lie down,” Jon urged. “Let me care for you.”

Georgie pursed her lips, considering it. “As long as you promise not to run off and let the kettle burn the place down.”

“Never,” Jon said. “But... Georgie, seriously, are you absolutely sure you feel safe with me staying here? They could come back—”

“Look, Jon, I don't reckon they'll likely come back _tonight,_ will they? I mean, why would they let you go just to bother you again a few hours later? So I'm safer with you than on my own.”

Jon pondered that. “Well… true.”

“Besides, you owe me Hungarian food,” Georgie reminded him. “And all the places around here are already closed for the night, so I suppose you’ll have to stay at least until lunch.”

"Right, of course." Jon flashed Georgie a sheepish smile. “Really, though, go lie down. You’ve had a hell of a night.”

“We both have.”

“Yes, but none of my orifices were ripped nearly in two, nor did I have to endure invasive exams from a doctor," Jon said. "I’ll bring the tea to you.”

“Thanks, and nothing with caffeine,” Georgie said over her shoulder. “If anything, I wouldn’t say no to something a bit stronger to help me sleep. Not sure what I've got left in the cabinet, though.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Jon assured her. “Off to bed with you.”

Georgie shuffled into her room and crawled painfully into her bed. She collapsed immediately into a deep sleep on top of her duvet, only to wake a few moments later to Jon gently taking her shoes off. She groaned as the pain came back to her. The Admiral, curled up next to her stomach, purred and nestled closer to her.

“Where does it hurt?” Jon asked, neatly setting her shoes on the rack.

“Everywhere,” she grumbled.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

Georgie pointed to her ribs. Jon gingerly lifted her shirt and dotted light kisses over the areas that hurt the most. It felt pretty good, so Georgie scritched Jon's head the same way The Admiral liked. Jon didn’t purr, but he did smile.

“Come on,” Georgie patted the other side of the bed. “You can finish cleaning in the morning. I need you to hold me right now.”

“But your ribs—”

“Jon. Don’t make me disturb this cat by dragging you into this bed.”

The Admiral stretched contentedly and licked Georgie’s hand.

“All right,” Jon said at last. “Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” 

Jon took his own shoes off and climbed into the bed. He was careful not to jostle Georgie's ribs or bother The Admiral, even as he handed Georgie’s herbal tea to her. Georgie sipped the hot tea and coughed at the strong taste of spirits.

“Too much alcohol?” 

“No, it's perfect." Georgie took another sip, not coughing this time. "Exactly what I needed. Thank you, Jon.”

“Of course. After all, it’s my fault you—well, I’m just happy to take care of you.”

“Mm.” Georgie took another sip, and her eyelids closed without permission. “All right, don’t hate me, but I think... that’s all the tea I can… drink… right now…”

“That's fine." Jon took the mug from her hands and placed it on the bedside table.

“Don’t let… The Admiral… he likes to…” Georgie made a swiping gesture.

“Oh, I’m well aware of The Admiral’s devotion to knocking things off surfaces,” Jon said. "I'll see to it that he doesn't."

"Thanks." Georgie yawned. “And don’t think you’re getting out of explaining how you came to owe money to the monster mafia, or whatever the fuck that was all about. I've got questions, Jon.”

“You’re not... er, alarmed by the existence of monsters?” Jon asked.

“Nah, I’ve known that for ages,” Georgie said. “I just want to know how you got mixed up with them. But later. After sleep. For now, your one job is to hold me until I pass out. And I’d take it as a kindness if you’d poke me awake if I have a nightmare.”

“Of course.” Jon draped his arm over Georgie and The Admiral. “The last thing I want is for you to have nightmares about your experience."

"I'll try not to, then." Georgie yawned again and nuzzled her face into Jon's chest.

Her hand clutched his undershirt for security, and, just like all those years ago, Jon covered her hand with his. Safe in bed with Jon once again, Georgie immediately submerged into a healing, dreamless slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you forever to my betas, El, Mars, and kimaracretak, for helping me so much with this! I'm not sure why my brain suddenly isn't sure whether it's "touche," "tutch," or "touch," but I clearly couldn't have done this without you three! 😊 Thank you so much for having my back and catching all those embarrassing ditzy moments. Any remaining awkwardness is my own.


End file.
